


losin' my mind

by losestelia



Category: ONF (Band)
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Kind of a songfic, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Super Light Angst, uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 20:38:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losestelia/pseuds/losestelia
Summary: minseok wasn't very gifted with the whole words thing.he could sit here all day and try to come up with a word beautiful enough for beauty itself.he tried every time he got close enough to feel yuto’s pulse.





	losin' my mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FrenchBlue32](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchBlue32/gifts).



> uGh so i read a fic by frenchblue and i was so in my feelings about it, it's like i haaaadddd to write a ulaun fic as a gift  
> so i did!  
> have fun  
> -rose
> 
>    
> based off of~  
> this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoZVxPTvGp4  
> this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14086698
> 
> (if there are typos my laptops been glitching so i'm trying to fix them eek)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _the sun comes up_  
>  _i think about you_  
>  _the coffee cup_  
>  _i think about you_

 

a morning like any other busy morning this week. there’s an alarm, water splashed in his face and mint in his mouth, hyojin’s groggy layout of the morning’s agenda, then they file out into the cold mangwon streets. like a huddle of penguins, shuffling out to their van. minseok stumbles into the back with yuto and minkyun, trying to wake himself up by reading a few articles but it just works to tire his eyes out more. his phone slips from his hand and hits the floor with a thud, seungjoon’s voice flickers away and he weighs as much as a steel bridge. crashing and burning into the body next to him, probably minkyun due to how they pulled him in with a tight grip.

 

 _the rough streets are cold against his feet as they bleed_.

_he has a feeling he has to keep running even if he doesn’t know what’s chasing him._

_he’s running with his eyes closed, suddenly colliding with a warm breathing person. his eyes open, and he’s not in the streets anymore, he’s in the dorm. he jumps back and his back hits a familiar counter._

_he’s standing in the kitchen facing yuto, who didn’t seem to notice or care that minseok had basically rammed into him._

_“yuto, why are you-”_

_“do i know you?” yuto doesn’t look confused or upset- he doesn’t really look anything._

_“yuto-” the yuto in front of him starts laughing and not in the pretty energetic way he usually does. it’s empty and hollow. “what’s happening.”_

_the yuto in front of him stops laughing and walks away. sharply through the suddenly unfamiliar dorm, common area. flicking off the lights as he went to the front door. minseok tried to go after him but, he could only shuffle his dirty feet across the floor._

_when he made it to the entryway yuto was stopped facing the door, “you shouldn’t have said anything.” he whispered. before minseok could question what exactly he meant, where exactly he was going, why any of this was happening, yuto turned to him and moved. closer and closer until their noses touched, their cupids bows brushed, then they were kissing. it’s inviting and calm, he thinks he doesn’t need answers if he can just feel this moment. almost out of body he sees his arm hold yuto’s waist, sees his hand slide under his hoodie._

 

_yuto steps back with a warm blush across his strange face, “you shouldn’t have told me how you feel.”_

 

“wait.”

minkyun pets his hair and shushes him, “bad dream?”. minseok looks around the car as it’s emptying out. he sits up rubbing his eyes, there are tears welled up in them that tumble out over his palms. yuto has already left and it’s just he and minkyun in the back.

“weird,” he rubs his tears onto his jeans and smiles at minkyun’s concerned and kind of motherly expression, “just a weird dream.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _all afternoon, doing every little chore_  
>  _the thought of you stays bright_

 

 

his knees ache and his brain is begging for him to give up. he never does. 3rd run and it feels like his shoulders are on fire, he's heaving out his breath. yuto stumbles over to shut off the music, minseok barely notices because he's laying flat on his back as soon as the 8 count finishes. he's so sweaty that he almost feels clean, so tired that he's almost exhilarated. dancing does weird things to his body.

“your expressions were better that time.” yuto's voice is steady but as soon as he's done speaking he's gasping, standing over minseok. speaking of weird things happening to his body.

yuto looks good from every angle but staring at him with his face all upside down and squinting at himself in the mirror. his features like a mountain range of strong bone, weathered by a waterfall of sweat.

“you-” his words are too reverent, too slow and breathy. yuto looks down, eyes widened slightly to show he's listening. his heart does one sudden _badum_ and a couple _kerthump_ ’s. he's sweating but now he feels a different sort of hot, one that scorches from the outside. like yuto’s gaze can actually burn him.

“you wanna get something to eat?” he scrambles to sit cross-legged so that he doesn't have to watch yuto’s sweat drop to the floor right next to his head. yuto smiles a small tired smile, “yeah, sounds good.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _spend sleepless nights_  
>  _to think about you_

 

minseok reaches beside his head blindly for his phone. brushing his fingerprint over the screen and seeing it click to life onto the performance he was watching. the google search bar blinked, sort of laughing at him.

 

_what does a dream-_

no, that wasn’t it

 

_what does a nightmare where your friend-_

he really had to laugh.

 

_what does a nightmare where your crush doesn’t remember who you are mean-_

try again.

 

_what does a nightmare where your first love doesn’t remember who you are mean-_

 

he sighs finger poised over the backspace, twitching between it and the enter key. he pounds down on enter. watching it load dream interpreters and articles about subconscious fear, a dash of trauma. and a couple hundred pages of psychological journals. minseok’s not an idiot, he has a pretty decent understanding of himself. he knows that every night since telling yuto how he felt he’s been restless. tossing and turning over his moronic regrets, and at 2:18 approximately it was an endless loop. played with what he could’ve done or should’ve done. all ending with something along the lines of ‘should’ve just kept your stupid mouth shut’.

he confessed to yuto underneath the starlight and the big glowing buildings of mangwon. they’d been leaning in silence against the ledge, feeling the slightly frosted night air brush past their rosy cheeks.

he told yuto how much he’d been thinking of him, how much he liked him, how he thought he might be going a little crazy. he stumbled over his words and it wasn’t until he saw the unsurprised, stone wall expression on his face. a sickly iceberg started forming in his stomach, heavy and immovable. yuto laughed, a puff of lingering smoke in the night air. minseok’s eyes stung, not a product of the weather.

“thank you but i don’t-” was all minseok could let him get through before his chest started to clench uncontrollably. he bowed more formally than he ever has to yuto and walked quickly to the door and down the stairs. he locked himself in minkyun’s studio, cuddling into one of the older’s spare hoodies because it smelled like him. minkyun smells like understanding older brother, like a corny joke and warm hugs.

he can’t undo ‘the incident’, he can’t unpour out his heart, unembarrass himself. and, sure, those aren’t real words but they convey the feeling. so now all he can do is pretend like there’s nothing left to say about it, it’s a crush he’ll get over. except this isn’t fluttering off like a crush, it’s sitting and collecting like something else.

first love fits. he hates that it fits but it does.

he needs air, needs space, needs time. those things aren’t very possible however when you live in a dorm with 6 other guys and do almost every activity with at least one of them. except for now. when he’s sort of alone, he supposes he’s alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

>   
>  _sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor_  
>  _not going left_  
>  _not going right_

 

 

there's a heavy feeling that accompanies standing alone at night.

it’s the weight of the silence, the weight of your distant fatigue, and the weight of a few other things he can’t put a finger on. he stands, shifting from left foot to right foot then back again, basking in the red and blue lights of the dorm’s water filter. he’s not thirsty but there's water in his hand, and he’s drinking it. he can barely see and the world looks fuzzy, blotchy, like it does after you stare into the sun. his mouth feels like it’s full of sidewalk concrete and his tongue is a wad of tasteless pink gum. heavy and thick and sticky, he hates it. he hates getting up when he can’t see the sun. he hates getting up when he knows he’s going to have to lay down and pretend like he wasn't up to begin with. minseok doesn't usually have nightmares, he has dreams he'd rather not talk about. maybe dreams that he wakes up and questions.

nothing he fears.

minseok thinks that's the definition of a nightmare. a dream full of something you fear, or something that subconsciously haunts you.

he throws the rest of the water down his throat, feeling it slither worthlessly down to his stomach.

he definitely feels haunted.

he trudges indecisively to his bedroom door. trotting in circles for a while before taking a single step closer to the door.

it doesn't creak or groan, just sweeps itself open like it’s daring him. he tiptoes through the entrance, arms wound protectively around his waist. it was less dark with the light from some sticky glow in the dark stars pasted on the bed frames. minkyun snored happily in his bed and he couldn't tell if hyojin was here. they all know he didn't like to sleep alone.

he really shouldn’t be passing judgment though.

all the mess that littered the floor conveniently made a path back to he and yuto’s bed.

his bed sheets are the same as he left them, thrown out of the way: perfectly messy. it would be so easy for him to crawl back into his bed and close his eyes. or he could go back to a comfortable habit. he could fall into something he knows he shouldn’t be doing anymore. something he made a promise to himself he wouldn’t do.

he promised.

 _you promised_.

his brain is screaming at him but his body is moving. climbing the ladder, attempting to make himself lighter somehow. yuto is curled in a ball on the far side of the small bed. he feels like this should be against the law. yuto’s feet poked out from beneath the blankets, tiny and twitching. his lips twitch up into a smile, he missed this.

yuto started inviting him to his bed to watch dramas. the first time, an accident when yuto dropped his phone from his bed down to minseok’s. after seeing the cheesy chinese romance drama yuto had been watching, he just invited himself onto the sputtering boy’s bed. episode after episode of slow-motion shots and indirect kisses, it makes his head swim when yuto rests his chin on his hand and sighs. and the more he stole glances at yuto’s tiny smile when the couple kisses in the pounding rain. yuto has a face he’s only thought tv actors could have. he never thought he’d be sitting in the same bed, watching dramas with someone with a face like that. someone born with a face like a sculpture or a painting- everything.

minseok wasn't very gifted with the whole words thing.

he could sit here all day and try to come up with a word beautiful enough for beauty itself.

he tried every time he got close enough to feel yuto’s pulse.

that had gone on for months in between promotions, late quiet nights, and general fatigue. it was an innocent television show, a shared love of romance and attempting to pronounce a language neither of them knew very well. it’s easy to forget that when the episode ends and the ost rolls over unfamiliar characters, when yuto turns off his phone and plugs it into his charger. yuto looks at him with a question, minseok answers with a smile. they never kissed, never said much. yuto just ran his fingers over minseok’s skin sort of like drawing with a dry marker. no one will ever know what picture you’re making, what words you’re writing, but you and the paper. he and yuto traded off being the paper, knowing what the other was thinking by the lines they drew that day. it wasn't conventional or by any means suggestive of ulterior motives. it just told something words couldn’t, what words failed at. they'd fall asleep together between a quilt they share, surrounded by the prying eyes of yuto’s plushies. it wasn’t until ‘the incident’ that minseok hasn’t felt the shy brush of yuto’s hand on his arm. it wasn’t until ‘the incident’ that minseok forgot what sleep even felt like. just nightmares, covered in more nightmares.

he rubs his face and sighs a long-suffering sigh. life can be so many different shades of confusing at once, you can't tell what color it will be until it's on your canvas. before meeting yuto he could just be boring cream paint, untouched by love or the beginnings of lust. there's a sickly green that comes with being even slightly rejected, putting yourself out there for the first time then coming to the crushing reality that it could never be more. yuto can throw in reds, yellows, a pretty flower pink, for a deep darkness of….love? he can press his lips against minseok's until it mixes even more between them. they can dip their hands in all of the paints, but until he makes a move, until he takes a chance, it's just paint.

he's just a guy, not an artist.

he's just a friend and not a lover.

this might be love, it’s not like he would know.

he doesn’t know anything.

the bed dips under his weight but yuto doesn’t stir, so he slides in beside him. he can hear yuto breathing in and out, in and out. he doesn't have to open his eyes to know his bodys rising, his lips parting. the way his back hits minseok's chest, and the way the air shifts when yuto breathes out. that tingly feeling when there's another person's skin touching your own. it wouldn't matter if that person was talented or beautiful. it doesn't matter who the human is, he tells himself. the familiar warmth is dizzying, making him feel instantly sleepy, floating over him like a spell.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _does no one know?_  
>  _it's like I'm losing my mind_

 

when his eyes open again they’re not greeted by the sunlight or the familiar shouts of his friends. there’s a distinct feeling that he’s being watched, like two spotlights trained on his face, burning holes through his skin. his eyes open lazily, slowly with blurry focus.

yuto’s bed, yuto’s blankets, yuto’s plushies and- _yuto_.

yuto’s matted blond hair and bare freckled skin.

his hearts doing jumping jacks in his chest. preparing for a race with an explanation to see who can get caught in his throat first. because even as the dark cloaks his red face, all he can see are the whites of yuto’s sharp but sleepy eyes.

there's this rush.

this persistent fluttering.

and no matter how much of a power he thinks he has over it.

he slips every time.

slips and falls right on his face.

“i- i, should i go? i think i should go.” minseok bolts upright, nearly slamming his head into the ceiling. his tired muscles try to yank him back to a soft comforting place but, he’s not about to have to explain sneaking into yuto’s bed. not today. nope. _not ever._

“no, just stay.” yuto scoots over to make a bit more room, giving minseok a proper pillow instead of just laying on his arms. he’s too tired to put up an actual fight, his body is still warm with embarrassment.

he forces his eyes shut, forces himself to tune out that stupid sixth sense he’s acquired. “minseokie?” yuto whispers approximately 7 inches(no, he’s not counting) away from his head, he hums in response.

“are you scared of me or something?” minseok’s eyes rolled back into his head because, _god_ he’s not doing this tonight. he turns to yuto’s pretty light brown eyes, glowing, approximately a half inch closer than they were before.

scared? he never considered scared.

there’s been admiration, adoration, and whatever the word for ‘i forget my name when you smile at me’ is. but, scared? psh, no this was far from scared. if anything this wasn’t fear of yuto, this was fear of himself. fear that he would say something and emotional again like last time.

like he’ll choke up when he’s shot down like last time.

“no i just- just don’t really know how to act around you.” he sighs internally, finally some honesty that doesn’t kick him in the little cracks in his heart, “with all the- things that have happened. it’s difficult to go back to whatever normal really is.”

minseok shifts on his side completely, toes tickle over yuto’s. it still has the same flick of electricity as the first time, it almost frustrates him. yuto has no idea how much he affects him.

“i’m sorry i made things awkward on the roof the other day, i just didn’t know how to respond and i guess it came out-”

 

“no, don’t apologize. i know this is really all my fault. i’m the one that chose to mess everything up with my dumb feelings, i shouldn’t have overcomplicated a friendship i really cherish. i know you already told me that you don’t like me the way i liked- well like you. i’m still working on the past tense thing. i know all of this awkwardness is 100% on my end” yuto’s face is still, but not in the tired way it was before. it’s cautious and minseok feels like he’s crossing so many boundaries and kicking down walls he was never meant to disturb, “but it’s kind of killing me to be away from you, even if it means i act like a total moron.” minseok smiles a sideways smile that hopefully conveys how insane he feels, how much he just wants to pull his own hair out and bang his head into the wall.

“did that make any sense?”

 

 

 

 

> _i want you so it’s like i’m losing my mind_

 

“minseok, i never said i didn't like you.” the words hang in the air like he just said ‘minseok i’m actually a time traveler from the 56th century’, both were as believable.

“yes you did.“

“no i didn’t.”

“yes, you did. you said, ‘thank you but, i don’t’-”

“ _yes_ , and that’s _all_ i was able to say before you left all of the sudden.” minseok blinks, confused. because what good things could possibly come after ‘thank you but, i don’t’ those are not things you want to hear after you just confessed to someone.

yuto sighs, brushing his bangs off his forehead, “i was _going_ to say that i don’t think that us dating is a good idea because of our career. and that i- well, i really like being around you lately. i think i might be a little in love with you.” yuto cracks a quick, toothy smile, “did that make any sense.”

he can’t tell if yuto took so long to say that because of the korean on his tongue or because of something entirely different. the silence keeps buzzing across his fingers and his eardrums, invading his skull. he wants to say something, but what would it be?

“but you said ‘thank you’?” minseok’s eyes must be popping out of his head at this point, this is insane. he’s felt crazy before, he’s felt so sleep deprived he’s almost genius. this feels like both of those types of insane combined into one big winding insane. maybe it’s the fatigue kicking in again, maybe it’s just how yuto makes him act.

“because i was thankful,” he says it matter of factly, minseok almost laughs. he hates misunderstandings, especially with yuto.

okay, retrace your steps.

yuto likes you, you're the idiot who didn’t let him finish, you could have spent the past week kissing him all over his perfect face. so much wasted time. some light bulb flickers on behind minseok’s eyes, his body moves before his mind can. it’s a feeling like he’s falling, flailing and scared. like some sick internal version of gravity pulls him towards a deeper goal.

and that goal is- “can i try something?”

he’s hanging over yuto, staring at the slightly amused look on the others face. he’s laughing- like an idiot- as he leans closer to yuto’s upturned lips. he’s already halfway kissing him when yuto mumbles a quick, “yeah.”. minseok’s never kissed anyone on purpose that wasn’t his grandmother or changyoon. and those were both completely different instances. those both didn’t make his heart pound so hard it rocked his entire body. the more that he thinks about it he has no idea how to kiss. he’s dreamed about it, read about it, used to catch couples do it in the bathrooms at school. seeing is never doing. he sort of just presses his lips to yuto’s and stays there, hovering with his eyes screwed shut. yuto doesn’t move but he can feel a slight push against him which probably means yutos kissing him back(???). it’s nice but, not in the way it was in the dream. it’s not needy and quick, it’s just melting into the full weight of yuto. it’s getting familiar with the curves of his lips, the warmth and texture. he concludes that he likes it- kissing yuto he means.

then yuto starts to move. starts to part his lips and come back to minseok’s, inviting him to mimic. he does and there’s a slide, a slick brush of the inside of yuto’s mouth. minseok winces internally for a second because, ew, there's someone else's spit in his mouth. and again, under any other circumstances, he’d be totally grossed out and questioning why exactly people did this for fun. but with yuto, in a hypocritical way it’s different. it’s still slightly weird when yuto licks his teeth, when he lets their tongues meet. it tickles and his brain his having a tough time processing it, maybe he just doesn’t need to process it. it feels like the chocolate chip cookies his mom used to make. ooey, gooey, chocolatey mess spilling over his fingers. slipping past normal and down into whatever realm of perfect yuto was surrounded by. yuto presses his warm hands onto his chest and grabs at his muscles softly, hesitantly. minseok leans into it and tries to make a noise of approval but it just comes out as ‘mpfh’ into their locked mouths. it’s funny until it’s not, until funny isn’t a word in his vocabulary anymore.

yuto puts a hand up his shirt smoothing up his stomach, fingers glancing his sternum. minseok forgets how to kiss. sure, he just learned how like 3 minutes ago but you know what he means.

skin on skin contact isn’t new. it normally doesn’t even bother him. seungjoon rubs his back when his muscles hurt, minkyun cuddles up to him when they watch movies, it’s like second nature to be close with his friends. something about being able to taste what flavor of the toothpaste yuto used before he fell asleep(spearmint) moves him into a different category than friend.

boyfriend?

friends with benefits?

he doesn’t even know what that means.  

_shit- breathe._

he splutters, thankfully not into yuto’s mouth, slightly gasping for air.

“you okay?” yuto sounds like he’s smiling, for once that’s not comforting.

“y-yup. not dead yet.” thankfully they both find that funny.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _i think about you_  
>  _and do they know?_

 

the next time he opens his eyes it’s light, for the first time in weeks the air isn’t heavy, his body isn’t empty, and he isn't alone. as much as he wants to bask in the new sensations, his mind is running. thoughts of last night and thoughts of tomorrow come unprompted. there's a slight tingle against his lips, a fleeting reminder of what he'd learned. his index finger traces circles over his lips, a little reminder of what that pressure felt like. yuto is motionless beside him, the air-conditioning above their heads ruffling his bangs. there's a peaceful pout across his face with a touch of lingering happiness. he's not sure what he's supposed to do when the rest of the house is asleep. he doesn't know if he should be normal, play it cool, or just run around screaming that he kissed yuto last night like the childish part of him wants to.

love makes you stupid like that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _you said you loved me_  
>  _or were you just being kind_

 

when yuto wakes up it’s nearly noon, an off day for the whole group. they inspect the house to see why the dorm is so quiet. every bed is empty and there’s a note on the bathroom mirror telling them they went out for lunch and didn’t want to wake them. they were promised chicken would be brought back. they aren’t _too_ mad about it then.

the two of them brush their teeth side by side in silence, only broken by the water running on and off. yuto insists he takes the first shower, which he flies through. not letting the thought of how completely insane his life has gotten in the past 8 hours or so. counting the time he was asleep, because a night without nightmares is something he considers insane. when he opens the bathroom door yuto is sprawled across the floor with a half-eaten orange popsicle between his lips. the wooden stick slips out from between the stained skin, yuto watches the tv screen absently. it’s a commercial for car insurance.

“showers all yours.” he pipes up, yuto’s eyes shift over to him. he doesn’t move, just keeps the drops of orange syrup from slipping onto his stomach. minseok towels his hair while he walks past yuto to their room, avoiding eye contact as yuto slides the rest of the slushy sweet off the stick.

“about last night, is that something we do now? kissing, is that a regular activity for us?” yuto’s voice is closer but still coming from the common area. minseok whips around, slinging the towel around his neck, “if that’s what you want-” he stays on the other side of their rooms threshold and yuto stays where he is, “i would want more than just that.”

his blood runs white how under his skin, his whole body electrified. anticipating a future he’s not even sure of yet. anticipating an answer he doesn’t know yet. for all he knows it’s just kissing between them. kissing and a lazy hand tracing essays on chilled skin, carving confessions into bones.

“i would want more than just that. like dating.” yuto comes up to the threshold, toes touching the line in the flooring where open space meets lonely room. yuto’s popsicle stick is still in his hand, orange stains his tongue as he speaks. minseok follows the colors with a bit too much focus. minseok steps closer and yuto looks smaller, shorter by more than a couple formalities. he looks pocketable almost, minseok thinks the word ‘cute’ should suffice. “but we can’t date because of our-”

“career, yeah. our job of course.” yuto’s face breaks into a smile, chuckling behind blushing cheeks, “so this isn’t dating then.”

“so it’s dating but not dating-“ he grabs around in the air for a word vague enough, “like non-dating.” yuto squints at him, a smirk of disbelief on his red face, “that’s not a word.”

minseok rolls his eyes, “a lot of things aren’t words. do you want to non-date me or not.”

yuto crosses the threshold, putting his hands on minseok shoulders. the silent cues: his eyes flicking to his lips, his tiny body moving closer, the orange-tinted tongue that darts out over his top lip. and the not so silent, “kiss me, non-boyfriend.”

it’s ridiculous that someone calling him his ‘non-boyfriend’ could make his heart flutter beyond his comprehension. his fingers lace behind minseok's neck, pulling their lips to meet. it’s all watered down sugar and uncoordinated passion. water drips off his bangs and onto yuto’s cheek, sizzling on the burning surface. he doesn’t think he’s dreaming, because this isn't perfect. in a perfect dreamland, he would be 6 feet tall and they would be standing in a lavish hotel suite and not their smelly dorm.

he doesn’t mind a not so perfect world.

a not so relationship.

with perfection in his arms.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading~  
> kudos and comments much appreciated!!  
> and feel free to come yell elsewhere 
> 
> [ my twitter ](https://twitter.com/kittykyuun)  
> come ask me things or share your prompts [ here ](https://curiouscat.me/kyunyoonpuff)


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